It Runs In The Family
by theD0ct0rD0nna
Summary: Being told you're related to a man who is centuries old, yet still breathing, is hard to get used to. Even more so when you find out you're witch. And here Lilliana thought Sleepy Hollow was supposed to be boring.
1. One quiet day

Sleepy Hollow was supposed to be boring. Nothing ever happened in the almost nonexistent town that was tucked into a cradle of thick woods. Now suddenly there was gossip about the sheriff being beheaded and talk of some time traveling mad man.

"Apparently he thinks he fought in the Revolutionary War with Washington," said one of Lilliana's coworkers. There was a break in the morning coffee rush which gave the employees time to dish what they'd heard customers whispering to each other.

"I heard that there was no blood," claimed another.

"His head was taken clean off," argued Lilliana's friend, Beth. "How could there be no blood?"

"That's just it isn't it?" Lilliana looked from one coworker to the next. She felt like she was at summer camp, exchanging ghost stories. She dragged her index finger across her neck. "His head came _clean_ off. There is nothing that can cut through a person's neck so perfectly. Unless…"

"Unless?" the rest asked in unison.

Lilliana paused for a dramatic effect. "Unless it was the axe of the Hessian."

They all let out the breath they had been holding. Beth shook her head. "The headless horseman? Come on Lilly. We all know that was just a story your grandpa told kids to scare them."

She shrugged. "It's an old family tale. Never know how much could be true."

The others shook their heads and rolled their eyes. As they carried on with their own tasks, Lilliana leaned against the counter and thought. Yes the tale of the headless horseman had been a family urban legend, passed down since the days of the Revolutionary War. Yes it had been used to scare her and her cousins into being good little boys and girls. Yes she had believed it for a time but now…well now it was just a silly little fable that was slowly dying along with the name of her grandfather.

Lilliana was officially the last Van Tassel in Sleepy Hollow and she had never felt lonelier. The bell on the shop door rang out making her come too. Shaking off her personal life, Lilliana put on a charming smile and welcomed the new customers.

* * *

Ichabod opened the door of his motel room before Abbie could even knock. "Good morning Leftenant," he greeted politely.

"You weren't just sitting by the window waiting for me were you?" He shook his head, earning him a skeptical gaze. She could just see him at the window like a puppy waiting for his owner to return. "Right. Well come on then."

"What are we doing today?" he asked as he grabbed his coat and shut the door. Ichabod followed behind her as they headed for her squad car.

"Well I've been thinking. Katrina was a witch right and she bound Serilda. So why couldn't we find some way to bind the Hessian? Crane are you listening?" She looked over to where he sat in the passenger seat.

Ichabod had been poking around the front seat, as if he were searching for something. "Are there donut holes?"

Abbie sighed. "You had a conniption fit the last time I brought them and now you want them?"

He shrugged. "Is breakfast not still the most important meal? Have you eaten Leftenant?"

"No."

"And neither have I. Therefore we should get some kind of nourishment," he argued. "And since you seemed partial to the donut holes…"

Abbie chuckled and held up her hand to stop him. "Alright, alright. We will get donut holes but you have to earn them by listening."

He nodded. "I am at your disposal."

Abbie shook her head and started the car. As they drove she talked and he listened, at least she hoped he was listening.

* * *

His stomach growled, awaiting the promised donut holes. He was listening however. Abbie had brought up an interesting idea. It was true his beloved had been able to bind Serilda and perhaps it could be done to the horseman. But would that achieve much? He was only one piece in a puzzle of many. The "nightmare spirit", as Abbie so fondly referred to it, had many other evil spawns at its disposal.

Oh if only Katrina were there to guide them, to help. She had not appeared to him for some time now. Though he supposed he should be somewhat glad. The dreams he had of her were lovely and painful all the same. While his heart ached to see her again it crushed him to know she was stuck in some world where he could not reach her.

As the familiar, and yet unfamiliar, buildings passed them by Ichabod leaned his arm against the door. Suddenly Ichabod sat more erect in his seat as he caught sight of something, or rather someone. As they pulled up to a stop light his eyes locked on a woman walking down the street ahead of them. Her deep red hair hung down her back in a mess of curls, a dark green coat came down to her knees, black riding boots met the hem of her coat as she walked.

"Katrina," he whispered. Surely that was her! He knew that hair a mile away, it was what had drawn him to her when they had first met. He watched as she crossed the street and headed for the graveyard. "Let me out."

"What?" Abbie glanced over to him as the light turned green.

Ichabod tugged at the seatbelt trying to see where the woman had gone. "Let me out! It's Katrina!"

"Katr…you're _dead_ wife?" Abbie looked around quickly but didn't see anything. "Crane what are you even…"

"It's Katrina," he repeated as he yanked off the seatbelt.

Before Abbie could process what was going on, Ichabod was opening the car door and getting out of the moving vehicle. She tried to slow down as much as possible so he wouldn't end up on his face in the street, run over like common road kill.

"Crane!" By the time she called after him, he was barely dodging traffic to get across the street. Abbie pulled over and parked quickly. "Stupid, crazy, time traveling, son of a…"

Abbie shut off the car and followed in the direction he had gone.

* * *

She had come this way, he had seen her come into the graveyard, he was sure he had seen her. Frantically he looked about and weaved in between the headstones. Why was Katrina hiding from him? Didn't she want them to be together? Or was this some malevolent spirit trying to trick him? Whatever it was he had to find her. Ah! There she was!

"Kat," he began to call when Abbie came up and smacked him on the back of the head. "Ow!"

"That is not half as much as you deserve," she growled in response. "What were you trying to pull back there? You scared me half to death!"

"But I…"

"I know you're out of time and all but it doesn't take an Einstein to know you don't get out of a moving vehicle!"

Ichabod looked down at his feet sheepishly. "Are you done shouting at me?"

"For the moment," she huffed.

"Good because there is a spirit, or copy, or indeed my wife herself over in that direction."

Taking Abbie by the shoulders he turned her towards where the woman had gone. The both of them watched for a moment. The woman had her back to them as she came to a stop in front of a headstone. Ichabod felt the sickening sensation of pain and joy grip his insides. He didn't know how or if it was possible but he had to talk to this woman. Slowly he began to make his way towards her.

Once he was a few graves away he came to a stop. Placing his hands behind his back he cleared his throat. "Katrina."

The woman turned around to reveal someone else. Her red hair made her pale skin more prominent. The sun hit her hazel eyes to make them glitter as they looked up at him confused. "My name is Lilliana. Who are you?"

**Don't own anything dealing with Sleepy Hollow. Just a humble fan having a little fun. Let me know what you think :) **


	2. How are you real?

Ichabod looked at her with wide eyes. He stared at the young woman while Abbie waited for one of them to speak more. She looked to her developing friend and partner as he stumbled to find something to say. He seemed to study every molecule of this girl, trying to make sense of her, as if he'd never seen a human being before. Her gaze moved from him to the girl, Lilliana. Lilliana looked between the two of them with a stern, confused, and sad gaze.

"Look I don't know how you two function but I came here to mourn," she said when no one spoke. "So if you don't mind…"

Abbie held up a hand. "I am sorry about him. He mistook you for someone else. We didn't mean to intrude."

"You," began Ichabod, "look like her. You have the nose, the bone structure, the hair…I dare say you could be her sister if she had one."

"Who?" Lilliana looked to Abbie. "What is he talking about?"

Abbie opened her mouth but what could she say? He is talking about his wife who has been dead for a few centuries. "I…uhm what he means is…"

Ichabod stepped closer to Lilliana, who in turn watched him with wary eyes. She should have brought her mace, fortunately for Ichabod she constantly forgot it at home. However, Lilliana stood completely still as he intruded further into her personal bubble. Finally he extended his index finger and poked her shoulder.

"Hey watch it buddy," Lilliana said hitting his hand away. It startled him for a moment but he gained his gentlemanly composure quickly.

He stood in front of her, hands behind his back once more. "You are living that is for certain. Not a spirit or a hallucination," he deducted as he peered at her. "Perhaps you are a trickster? Something from a legend…how is it you look like her? Explain your visage."

Lilliana narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm getting really tired of this."

"Explain Madame!"

"Ichabod," Abbie hissed and placed herself between him and the girl. "Enough!" She glanced back at Lilliana. "Look I'm sorry. We'll go."

"Ichabod?" Lilliana eye's widened as she looked past Abbie to him. "Your name is…"

"Ichabod Crane," he introduced stiffly.

"_You're_ Ichabod Crane?"

"Yes."

"You."

"Yes."

"Ichabod Crane, that's who you are?"

"Yes," he answered with frustration. "Is this some kind of twenty-first century socialization I have not been introduced to?" he asked looking to Abbie.

"You can't be Ichabod Crane." Lilliana shook her head and placed her hands at her hips. "He's dead."

Ichabod mimicked her pose. "Clearly. As you can see Madame I am well in the ground covered with dirt and maggots have consumed my flesh."

She narrowed her eyes at him again. "Is that supposed to be sarcasm?"

He rolled his eyes. "I would expect someone from this century to comprehend such a notion. Once again, I am Ichabod Crane and you have yet to answer my question."

"No." Her arms dropped to her side.

"No?" His own arms dropped to his side. "What do you mean no?"

"You're not Ichabod Crane. Ichabod Crane was part of my grandfather's story."

"What story?" questioned Abbie. She had been standing silent watching back and forth during the exchange. "Will one of you tell me something?"

Lilliana let out a long sigh and rubbed her head. What was this man telling her? That he was centuries old yet standing in front of her breathing and functioning? Ichabod Crane was from the story, no one in the family even knew if he was real considering they never found his body after the war.

It had to be a joke. That's it! That's what it had to be. "Who put you up to this? Was it Beth? Jodie? Brome? Who?"

"This is no jape," he said calmly.

Lilliana shook her head. Running a hand through her hair she let out a long breath. "I have to go."

Without waiting for any kind of response, Lilliana turned and began to make her way out of the cemetery. As she walked her head began reeling with what she had just been told.

* * *

Abbie and Ichabod watched the girl go. Abbie sighed and rubbed her head. Working with Ichabod was helpful at times while at other times he was just annoying and bothersome. Now was a good example.

"Why were you hounding that girl?" she asked with great irritation. "Sometimes I really wonder how you ever survived in your own time." Abbie looked to where he was kneeling by the grave Lilliana had been standing in front of. "What are you doing now?"

Ichabod reached out and traced the name engraved on the headstone. His brow stitched together as he looked over the name. "How…how is it possible?"

"What? Crane? What are you doing?"

He stood, eyes glued to the headstone. "She is a Van Tassel."

Abbie moved closer to take a better look at the headstone. It read: _Ian Van Tassel. Beloved Husband and Grandfather. He will be missed. _"Van Tassel. Wasn't that your wife's maiden name?" Ichabod nodded. "So she is related to you. Makes perfect sense as to why she would have similar features as Katrina."

But how could this be? Katrina was the only Van Tassel he knew of that resided in Sleepy Hollow. He turned to Abbie and said, "I need to see records of the town. In that room we discovered…"

"You mean the one you broke the wall for?"

"That very room, there must be a book of families in there. Something to explain all of this." He thought for a moment and then nodded as if to confirm his thoughts. "Come Abbie there are questions to be answered."

**I would like to thank my detective for helping me develop all of this! Thanks for letting me bounce ideas off your amazingness and giving me brilliant ideas! So glad I got you to fangirl with and create amazing plots ^_^ **


	3. The Van Tassel child

Lilliana burst into the coffee shop. All eyes turned to her as the bell on the door practically detached as she slammed it shut. With hard and quick steps, her boots clicking against the polished floor, she walked up to the counter.

"Which one of you did it?" She looked around at her coworkers and ignored the few customers that sat at the tables. "Which one of you sent him?"

Beth looked around at the others before looking back to her friend. "Lilly what are you talking about? Sent who?"

"The guy! Lengthy, British, old timey, claiming to be Ichabod Crane." She could feel her skin beginning to heat with frustration, embarrassment, and anger. "Who was it?"

"Lilly…we have no idea what you're talking about," claimed Brome. "We haven't seen any guy like that. Besides wasn't what's his face from your grandpa's story?"

Beth gave her friend a concerned look. "Sweetie are you feeling okay?"

Lilliana looked around her in disbelief. One of them had to have done this. It was a trick, it just had to be. They had just been talking about the headless horseman that morning after all. That man couldn't have really been…

She shook her head. "Whoever it was…it's not funny. Using my grandpa's story like that…" Shaking her head again she began to slowly walk backwards towards the door. Tears began to sting her eyes like relentless bees. "It's not funny."

With that she turned and left. As she walked down the street the tears brimmed against her will and slithered down her cold reddened cheeks. Lilliana drew up her hood to hide her face, cursing herself as she picked up the pace. She didn't want to cry, there was no point in it, for no amount of tears could fix anything. No salty drop of water could bring back her grandfather, her parents, or the rest of her family.

Taking in a deep breath she dragged the back of her hand over her eyes and focused on the sound of her boots hitting the pavement.

* * *

Dust clouds danced around them in dim light that barely came through the shutters on the windows as they searched through stacks of old things. Among them were old history books, rusty file cabinets, and old family novelties. Abbie set down a copy of some cookbook and coughed as the dust hit her face.

She waved her hand about trying to clear it away. "This is pointless. There is no reason for us to do this. So the kid is related to you, big deal."

"Indeed it is a big deal Abbie." Ichabod pushed a large cabinet out of his way as he spoke.

"Why?" She walked over and plopped down in a chair. "We know her name is Lilliana Van Tassel. We could probably look her up in the yellow pages, go and visit, and you two can have family bonding."

Ichabod carried the books he'd looked through over to a table and stacked them. "What are… yellow pages? Has the paper of this century contracted jaundice?"

Abbie chuckled. "No. The paper is just fine. Yellow pages, it's a telephone book, a way to look up people."

"I see," he grunted as he added more books to his stacks. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked to where she sat comfortably. "Have you finished your search Miss Mills? Or are we experiencing a fit of laziness?"

She shrugged. "Figured I'd let you search since you're the one freaking out about who you're related to." Abbie stretched her arms. "Besides you were in the ground for how long? It's good for you to do a little manual labor."

"As you wish," he said resuming his search.

Abbie watched him for a moment before speaking again. "You haven't answered my question. Why are you freaking out so much about this girl? You're acting like having her being related to you is the worst thing in the world."

"Not the worst thing, no." He shoved aside another cabinet before pausing to look at Abbie. "Impossible more like. You see Miss Mills when I met Katrina her parents had been deceased for some time. She had no other family to speak of, no one to carry on the Van Tassel bloodline. So with that, this child's relation to me is something quite…curious." He rested his elbow on a stack of books and placed his chin in the palm of his hand. "Unless there were some distant Van Tassels that I was never acquainted with. Or perhaps she is not truly a Van Tassel at all and her family simply adopted the name out of convenience. Or even more so…"

"Crane," interrupted Abbie. He startled and looked to her. "I stopped listening at impossible. I know you were mumbling some uncertainties just now and that can all be fixed."

"Aye?"

She nodded and gestured to where they were. "That's the reason we came down here remember?"

Ichabod looked about the dusty room. "Ah yes. Right you are Abbie, on with my search."

However, his search didn't last much longer. As Ichabod set to looking through some discarded books, a faint sound reached his ears. It was no less than a whisper to start but slowly grew in volume. A lyrical voice calling out his name became clear and echoed off the ancient brick of the walls. Ichabod set down the book he was thumbing through and slowly stretched out his gangly legs as he stood.

Abbie yawned as she watched him. "What? Something wrong?"

"Do you hear it?" he asked turning his head slightly towards her as his eyes searched the room. "Can you hear it Abbie?"

She listened for a long moment. All she could hear was the faint howl of wind probably coming from the hole in the wall he had created. "I don't think I'm hearing what you're hearing."

_Ichabod_.

"Hush! There it comes again." He looked about him to figure out what direction it had come from.

_Ichabod._

There. It had come from the right corner of the room. With his scarecrow like legs, he stepped carefully over piles and covered furniture. The voice began to die away as he got closer to the corner the sound had come from. Bending down he pushed aside a chair and found a lump covered in an old sheet. Abbie stood from her chair to try and see what he had found.

Ichabod straightened up and began to pull the rotted sheet away. Finally an old leather bound book came into view, a tree etched out of silver lay on the cover. Tossing the sheet aside, Ichabod gently cracked the book open. The first page read: _Sleepy Hollow's treasured families. A full history of the bloodlines._

"I've found it," he half whispered.

"But it can't have all the families in it right?" Abbie asked as he made his way back towards her. "I mean that would be impossible."

Ichabod took in a breath and blew off some of the dust. "Not quite. Sleepy Hollow in my day was smaller than it is now, still beginning, there weren't half as many families then."

He set the book down on a desktop between them. Hesitantly he rubbed his fingers together, his heart beating a little faster than usual. In these pages he would be able to discover who this girl truly was. He would be able to discover if his beloved's family survived and if he had someone in this new world whom he could call family. The nervousness he felt began to ebb to joy and hope which took its place. Carefully he reached out and began to turn the frayed pages.

They flipped through eight family trees before they reached the page titled _The Van Tassel Family Line_. Ichabod's index finger touched the first name on the page and slowly made its way down as Abbie read out the names.

"Christopher Van Tassel married Miranda White. Their children were Thomas, Richard, and Elizabeth. All three children married. Thomas had Baltus, Victor, and Elijah. Richard had Marie and Susan. Victor and Elijah died at a young age. Baltus married Miranda Masbath and had Katrina and…"

Ichabod's finger stopped on the second name that was attached to Katrina's parents.

"Lucas Van Tassel," Abbie finished. She looked up to Ichabod and watched him for a moment. He simply kept his finger on the boy's name as he stared at it. Abbie took his hand away from the page. "Looks like Lucas survived and went on to create more Van Tassels. I don't see Lilliana's name on here but I don't think you really need any more evidence."

Ichabod broke into a smile. His hopes had been granted, he had family, someone he could connect to and do what he had failed to do in his time. Protect them from all forms of harm. He flipped the book shut and gathered it into his arms.

"I have a 200 great grandniece." The smile widened, if it were possible to grow any bigger.

Abbie found herself starting to smile as she watched him. In some way she was relieved that he had someone in this age. It made her happy and a little more relaxed to know there was another who could help her with the burden of this man, who often acted like a child confused and scared by his surroundings.

"Congratulations Crane," she patted him on the shoulder.

He nodded. "Come Leftenant! Get your yellow pages and let us seek her out. This family has been parted for long enough."

* * *

The sun emitted a pale gold light as clouds began to gather in the sky. The leaves crunched pleasantly under her boots as she walked. Lilliana took in a deep breath of the fresh air that the trees provided. Taking a nice long walk through the woods was exactly what she needed to calm her mind and her crying. It was the perfect place to reminisce about the good walks she had taken with her grandfather and cousins. As she relieved the memories, she began to think about how all their walks ended in the town cemetery. She had always thought it was so she could visit her parent's graves but they had always stopped at another gravestone first.

The grave had belonged to one of their first relatives to live in Sleepy Hollow. What was the name on it? It shouldn't have been hard to remember considering that Lilliana had seen the name so often and thought it so pretty. She had thought of naming her own daughter that one day if she had a child. But for the life of her she could not think of the name. Lilliana came to a stop in her walking and closed her eyes. An image of the headstone came forward in her mind.

"Katrina," she said to herself.

Suddenly, in the quiet of the wood, a hand reached out and gripped hers. Lilliana jumped and spun around to come face to face with a tragically lovely woman. As she looked at the woman she could see traces of her father and herself mixed into the woman's features.

The woman gave a little smile and squeezed the girl's hand. "Hello little dove."

Lilliana stared back at her for a moment. "You're who he meant…when he said I looked like…you're Katrina Crane."

"Formerly Katrina Van Tassel yes." Quickly she looked over her shoulder and then back to Lilliana. "We don't have much time, he is distracted for now, but I need you to listen closely child."

"Who is distracted? Wait is this a dream? Cause you're dead right? Or are you like what's his face and decided to become a zombie…"

Katrina took her by the shoulders. "Hush now and listen! You are my brother's child, the last of the Van Tassel line but you are not alone. My dearest husband is your family and you need each other in this world. Love and take care of each other for your world is harsh and unforgiving."

Lilliana's brow stitched together. "So Ichabod is real? That would make him my very great granduncle…this is too weird. I love weird don't get me wrong but…seriously?"

Katrina looked behind her frantically. "He knows you're here. You're in danger beloved. Come!"

She took Lilliana's hand and began to drag her through the woods. Twisted branches from the tress snagged at her hair and clothing while Katrina breezed through them without flinching. She dragged the girl along, glancing over her shoulder every so often. Finally they came to a stop at the old wooden bridge, the cold river rushing over stones just below. There Katrina turned Lilliana towards her, taking the girl's hands in her own.

"Listen and remember these words Lilliana. When the moon is pregnant with light and as orange as a pumpkin you will harvest your powers. Find the almanac under the hanging tree and bind him! You have the strength as long as you keep love and family in your heart." Looking over her shoulder she could see the milk white figure coming towards them, his dark horns protruding from his head. With a gasp she turned back to Lilliana. "You must never come here again, this is his domain and he seeks to do you harm."

"Who?" Lilliana looked over her shoulder to see the figure. Her eyes widened with confusion and fear. "What the hell is that?"

"You must go now!" Katrina pushed the girl away. Lilliana stumbled to the middle of the bridge. "Wake up Lilliana! Go now!"

"How?" The figure was getting ever closer to them and Lilliana felt herself begin to panic. "Katrina!"

"Jump in the river! I'll hold him off! Go! Now!"

Lilliana watched as Katrina turned and raised her hands. She very much doubted that would stop whatever the figure was but all the same she climbed up onto the railing of the bridge. Standing there, holding onto the beam that held up the covering roof of the bridge, she looked down into the water.

"I don't know how to swim," she whimpered.

By some miracle Lilliana let go of the beam and jumped into the water.

* * *

She bolted up with a scream. Lilliana looked about her in a panic to discover she was not in the woods but in her own bed. Placing a hand over her thundering heart, Lilliana closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths. Once her heart had begun to beat normally, she slid off her bed and moved over to her desk. Quickly she scribbled out what she had been told, you know just in case the dream was real and not just some crazy hallucination.

Sitting back in her desk chair she looked over the words.

DING DONG.

Lilliana screamed at the sudden sound of the doorbell. Her heart began thumping again as a sickening pit grew in her stomach. Slowly she stood and made her way downstairs. Half way down the bell rang again.

"I'm coming!" Finally her hand clasped the doorknob and turned. As her guests were revealed, Lilliana let out a sigh. "I was hoping you were a dream like she was."

Ichabod tilted his head to the side with curiosity. "Like who was?"

"_Her_," she answered feeling flustered. "Your wife."

"Katrina," he breathed. "You've seen her. Marvelous," he smiled. "What did she say? What occurred in this vision?"

"It was more like a nightmare and…I…I don't really feel up to talking about it right now."

He nodded and looked to Abbie briefly. She shrugged. Ichabod tapped his fingers against the leather bound book that he clung to his chest. "Of course. Uhm perhaps tea will liven you up. May I?" He looked over her shoulder into the house."

Lilliana considered shutting the door in his face for a long moment. However, Katrina's words slipped into her mind. _My dearest husband is your family and you need each other in this world. Love and take care of each other for your world is harsh and unforgiving._ Opening the door a little wider she gestured for them to come inside.

Ichabod stepped through and looked about the foyer. "Ah the old Van Tassel mansion. I am pleased to see it is mostly the same. Glad you are staying in the old family home."

"By the way," Abbie said as she stepped into the house, "the rent I paid on his motel room is almost up and he'll need a place to stay. Seeing as you are family…"

"Yes why not?" Lilliana put on a hard smile. "After all I'm not using most of these rooms."

Abbie nodded and gave her a grateful smile. Lilliana hung her head as she closed the door.

**Wow thanks for the reviews! Also for the favorites and follows! I am glad you are liking the story so far. Hope this chapter kept your interest! Let me know what you think :D**


	4. Accepted

**Golly thanks for all the positive reviews and favorites/follows! Glad everyone is liking the story thus far! By the way I'm picturing Holland Roden as Lilliana, just to put a face to the character. :) **

He waited on the porch as the sound of the doorbell lingered, slowly dying away as footsteps came towards the door.

"Brome," said the man as the door opened. "Come on in your mom is just making dinner."

"Thanks dad." Brome walked into his childhood house, his father closing the door behind him. "Something smells good."

Brome's father removed his son's jacket and hung it up by the door. "She's making pumpkin lasagna."

Brome nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Well I came on the right night then." He hesitated for a moment as his father went into the kitchen to inform his mother of his presence.

"Brome," called his mother. He walked into the kitchen and gave her a smile. "Hi sweetie! So glad you stopped by. You're staying for dinner yes?"

He nodded. "Yeah I'll stay."

"Good it will be ready soon."

"Okay. Hey uhm dad…can I talk to you for a minute?"

Brome and his father walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Brome took a seat on the couch while his father took a seat in his armchair. "What's on your mind son?"

"It's uhm…well…he's here. Ichabod Crane."

His father sat up a little straighter. "How do you know?"

Brome looked down at his shoes. His heart raced in his chest as the words began to form on his tongue. He didn't want to betray her, he liked Lilliana as a friend, they had known each other since grade school. But there was something stronger than friendship haunting him.

Finally he opened his mouth. "Lilliana, she came into the shop ranting about him. They must have met this afternoon. She thought one of us was pulling a prank."

"Wonderful." Brome's father smiled and nodded. "This is wonderful. She's the one we've been looking for. After years of getting rid of the Van Tassel family we finally have the one we need. Well done Brome. He will be pleased with you."

Brome nodded as a sick feeling crept into his body. "But…she might not even be a…I mean the legend could be wrong."

"Are you questioning him son?"

"I just meant…"

Brome's father stood and walked over to where his boy sat. He bent down and placed his hand on the boy's shoulders. "Listen to me Brome. You do not question him or the legend. Lilliana is the one we need, we did not sacrifice the other Van Tassels just to stop now."

"Boys dinner," called out his mother.

"Come on now. Go help your mother set the table."

Brome stood and walked out of the living room with heavy footsteps. Meanwhile, Brome's father walked into his study and picked up his cell. Quickly he dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear. It rang twice before someone answered.

"She's the one," he said into the phone. "Lilliana Van Tassel is the one of the legend."

* * *

Lilliana sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. Ichabod walked around the ground floor of the house calling out the memories he had of each room. Abbie sat with Lilliana, recounting how she'd met Ichabod and how they had become partners in the recent strangeness that had consumed the town.

"This isn't happening," Lilliana mumbled. "This _isn't_ happening."

"Oh and here," came Ichabod's voice, "here is where Katrina and I shared our vows! Extraordinary. The stain from where her father spilt wine is still there!"

Abbie felt sorry for Lilliana. She knew this couldn't be easy to accept, even she still had moments of doubt with Ichabod, but being told he was your relation… "I don't know what to tell you. He passed the lie detector test and everything he has told me has ended up true. I know it's a lot to take in…"

Ichabod strode into the kitchen still clasping the book in his arms. "I forget myself dear one. Shall I make tea? Then we might discuss the facts of our being related."

Lilliana freed one of her hands and waved it about. "Go for it."

Ichabod set the book down on the table and moved over towards the stove. Abbie watched with her usual amusement as Ichabod battled against a twenty-first century invention. She watched as he filled the kettle with water from the sink and then came to a stop at the sight of the stove. He turned his head from side to side looking at the knobs and metal grates on the top.

"Uhm…niece…how do you…"

Lilliana lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at him. With a sound of frustration she got up and took the kettle from him. He watched, standing close by her side, as she turned a knob and the fire started up. As she resumed her seat, Ichabod knelt down to try and inspect the flame.

"What kind of witchcraft do you practice niece?"

"It's not witchcraft," she bit. "It's electricity and, and science stuff that I don't have the energy to explain." Her head dropped back into her hands. "Another thing, stop calling me niece. It's creeping me out."

He sat across from her at the table and folded his hands on the tabletop. "But it is what you are to me. Never mind the distance of time between us, I am your uncle and you are my niece."

She dragged a hand through her hair causing the curls to separate and span out. "Yeah I'm not really buying this."

Ichabod leaned closer to Abbie and whispered, "This costs money?"

"I mean this whole thing is so jacked up," she laughed. "The only explanation is that I've lost it."

"If you're insinuating that me being present here and now and claiming kinship to you is equivalent to you losing your marbles…"

She pointed at him. "That is what I insinuate. I insinuate that very much!"

Ichabod sighed as his heart began to lose the joy and hope it had held. "Lilliana…"

Lilliana stood and began to pace. "After papa died I must have repressed my feelings. By doing that I had a mental breakdown, I mean I didn't even cry at the funeral, and being the last of my family…I mean who wouldn't go bonkers."

Abbie brought the book towards her and flipped it open to the Van Tassel page. She turned it back around catching Lilliana's attention. "Look. Right here is all the proof you need to know that all of this is real. The line shows that you are related to Katrina and that she had a brother who continued the line down to you."

Walking back to the table, Lilliana galumphed down into her seat and looked at the line of her family. "I've seen this before…"

Without another word she stood and walked out of the kitchen. Ichabod and Abbie exchanged looks but did not follow or question. Simply the two remained silent, listening to the water begin to bubble on the stove, until she reentered and placed a piece of paper in front of them. Ichabod and Abbie leaned forward to look at the paper.

A childish drawing of a tree took up the whole paper, the colors faded from time. On the branches of the tree were thick black lines with names scribbled down on them. Ichabod looked closer to see that the names matched the ones from the book starting with Baltus Van Tassel and his wife at the very top of the tree. The names continued down to the roots of the tree where it ended with Ruth, Jackie, Kevin, Jeremy, Skipper, April, and Lilliana.

"My cousin Ruth did this when she was in fifth grade," Lilliana said quietly.

Ichabod looked up to her with a faint smile. "Will you accept it now?"

Her eyes glided up to meet his. So this was really happening. There was no fighting it now. She supposed having someone around, even if he should be 200 years in the grave, someone to create noise in the house, someone to depend on.

Slowly she nodded. Ichabod reached across the table for her hand. Lilliana placed her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze.


	5. Make her weak

Dinner was simple that night. Pancakes, eggs, fruit, and toast. As Lilliana moved about the kitchen preparing things Ichabod watched from his seat at the table. The dusty old book remained on the table along with the old drawing of the Van Tassel family tree. Ichabod glanced down to it every once in a while to make sure it was still there. He felt as though if he let it out of his site he would wake up in some grave, shut away in darkness, and Lilliana would just be something of his imagining.

It was striking how attached to Lilliana he felt already. They hadn't know each other for long and already he felt an almost parental instinct begin to set in, though he and Katrina never had the chance to foster a child. Perhaps Lilliana was the opportunity for this experience.

"So what brought you to Sleepy Hollow?" she asked as she set a plate down in front of him.

Ichabod looked over the food with delight, not realizing how hungry he was. "The Revolutionary War. I was originally part of the Queen's Royal Army but was soon converted to the American cause when…"

"No." Lilliana brought over her own plate and sat. She let out a little laugh. "No I meant now. Like why aren't you a bag of bones?"

"Ah. Ah yes. Uhm well it would seem that is due to the horseman. He and I were connected by blood in our deaths. Someone has brought the Hessian back from the grave and with him came myself."

As Ichabod dug into his dinner, Lilliana sat at the table slack jawed. "The…H-Hessian? He's…I mean…h-h-he's running around Sleepy Hollow?"

"Hmm indeed," he said with a mouthful. "These flat puffs of pastry are a delicious wonder niece. You must show me how to make them."

Lilliana slumped in her seat. "Could this day be any more of an episode from Twilight Zone?"

"These eggs are quite splendid," he said scooping some up on his fork.

"I'm sorry you just told me that the Hessian, the horseman from hell, the man in papa's story is running amuck in Sleepy Hollow! Your lack of concern is worrying Ichabod."

Ichabod swallowed his food and gave her a smile. "I have been in the grave once already, so I do not fear the horseman as much as I had before. If anything it gives me courage to fight him now." Seeing her worried, wide eyes made his smile drop. "Don't fret dear Lilliana. Leftenant Mills and I are working on riding this town of the hellion."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Ichabod lowered his gaze back to the food. Realizing how rude she had sounded, Lilliana felt a knot in her stomach tighten. "I'm sorry. Papa always said I was blatantly rude. I didn't mean…if anyone can fight the horseman it's you."

Ichabod gave her a nod and Lilliana gave him a small smile of relief and finally began on her dinner.

The smoke began to rise around her, choking her, making her eyes water. All she had to do was get up and move away. If she moved away she would be able to breathe clean air and be free from the horrible burning smell. However, as she tried to do so she found herself restricted. Lilliana discovered that her hands had been tied behind her back and the rest of her hand been roped to a wooden pillar. She struggled against her bonds in vain as flames began to lick at her legs.

The flames began to grow and crawl up her body. Lilliana could feel her mouth moving, calling out for Ichabod, but there was no sound coming out. As she looked through the flames seeking help she spotted a figure. Her heart swelled with hope as she tried calling out for Ichabod more. But the figure was not Ichabod at all.

Through the flames she could see the sickeningly pale body and the ebony horns. It was the figure she had seen in her dream of Katrina. The figure that Katrina had been trying to protect her from. Panic seized Lilliana causing her to struggle against her bonds all the more and scream out. The figure contorted its body and howled in laughter at her agony. However, the howling laughter turned into a shrill shriek.

Lilliana bolted up in bed. The shrill shriek echoed throughout the house. "Ichabod."

A thin layer of smoke floated out of the kitchen where she found him desperately trying to find the source of the shrieking. Lilliana ran over and threw open a window to try and get rid of the smoke.

"What are you doing?" Moving him out of the way she discovered the toaster which was jammed with bread.

"I was trying to make breakfast," Ichabod confessed as he waved the smoke out the open window. "I thought it would be the least I could do. A, a thanks to you for housing me."

"Well there won't be a house much longer if you burn it down!" Lilliana unplugged the toaster and tried to lift the handle to make the bread pop out. Finally she got a chair and stood on it to remove the smoke detector. "Well this explains the smoke I smelled in my dream."

Ichabod moved away from the window, intrigued by what she had said. "What dream was that niece?"

Lilliana plopped down in a chair and ran a hand through her hair. "I was being burned. You know like what they used to do to witches."

"Interesting," he said stroking his beard.

"Is it?"

"Indeed." He joined her at the table. "It is interesting that you had such a dream. Perhaps it is a foreshadowing. Or your mind is trying to reveal an unknown characteristic about you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did you just call me a witch?"

"Well seeing as your ancestor was a witch and killed in the same manner."

Lilliana's tired eyes looked at him with no patience. "I'm going to ask you a favor Ichabod."

"Yes of course," he said leaned forward. "Anything Lilliana."

"In less than a day I found out both you and the headless horseman are real and walking around here and now." He nodded to show he understood. "Now you're calling me a witch and saying Katrina was a witch as well."

"She was."

"Whatever…all I'm asking is that for a day we don't talk about horsemen, witches, or weird spooky figures, or almanacs, or…"

"Almanac?" he asked, perking up at the word. "What almanac?"

Lilliana held up a hand. "No. We just agreed no talking about…"

"Where did you hear about this almanac?"

She sighed and dropped her hand. So much for not talking about it. "In my dream with Katrina. She said something about a hanging tree and harvesting something. I don't know, it's too early to…"

He reached across the table and grasped her hand. "Lilliana this must be of importance if Katrina mentioned it to you. Try to remember."

Lilliana's shoulders dropped but all the same she tried. Closing her eyes she tried to remember how the dream had gone. She could see Katrina standing in front of her and tried to hear her voice.

"Listen and remember," she whispered to herself. "When the moon is pregnant with light and as orange as a pumpkin you will harvest your powers. Find the almanac under the hanging tree and bind him."

She opened her eyes to find him watching her intently, still holding her hand tightly. With his free hand he pointed to her. "This is most excellent and interesting. A message to pick apart and learn from. Now who might this 'him' be?"

"No." With that she reclaimed her hand and stood.

"No?"

"No," she repeated. "If you want to play Sherlock Holmes," she raised a hand to stop him from asking who that was, "then you can go find Lieutenant Mills. I need to get to work now that there are two of us living here. I assume the police department isn't paying you."

"No my services are entirely free at the moment."

She nodded. "Right." As she turned to head out of the kitchen she said over her shoulder, "There is milk in the fridge and cereal in the cupboard. You can't burn that, good luck."

"Morning Lilly," Brome greeted as he handed a customer their drink.

She gave a smile and came behind the counter. "What's up?"

"How are you feeling?" She gave him a questioning look. "Well just that yesterday…"

Lilliana slipped her apron over her head and tied it. "Oh right that. I was just having a hard time yesterday. I haven't been dealing with my papa's death as well as I thought."

"I'm sorry," he said placing a hand on her shoulder. "Y'know if you ever want to talk or anything I'm here for you."

"Thanks Brome," she said with a smile. "What I could really use is a coffee."

"I'm on it."

Brome set to work on making her a coffee while Lilliana tended to the customer that just came in. While she was distracted with the customer, Brome took out a vile from his jean pocket. He looked at it for a moment remembering what his father had told him.

"_I've been talking with the others son and we have decided," his father had said. _

"_Decided what?" _

"_That it should be you." He held out the vile. "Inside this is something that will open up Lilliana's mind, something that will weaken it and allow him access." _

_Brome looked at the vile and hesitated to take it. "I…I don't know if I can…I don't want to drug her." _

"_It's his will Brome. We serve him, remember that." He placed the vile into his son's hand._

Brome uncorked the vile and after great hesitation poured the contents into the coffee. Throwing a lid on it he walked over to where Lilliana stood and handed it over. She accepted it gratefully. A sickening feeling rose in Brome as she sipped the coffee.


End file.
